Darling, My Heart's On Fire
by katiekayx
Summary: AU set in Nashville. Emma, a museum curator, moves to Nashville in hopes of a clean slate. Killian, a musician, hopes to one day stop playing nights at his brother's bar and find something to calm his restless spirit. Their paths cross, and everything changes.
1. Chapter 1

Emma Swan blew her hair off of her forehead, the sticky humidity in Nashville doing nothing to help her cope with the lack of air conditioning in her new house. Deciding the last of the boxes could wait another day to be unpacked, Emma rocked back on her heels and looked around her bedroom, surprised at the progress she had made in only a few hours.

The house, a pretty yellow thing with a large front porch, had lots of windows, which made the house have a sunny glow, making Emma feel at home instantly. It probably had two more bedrooms than she needed, but the house was a steal, even if it needed a little work. The master bedroom in particular needed a fresh coat of paint, but it wasn't too far gone, and Emma sort of enjoyed the feeling of a lived-in house, although she supposed that came from her job as a museum curator – a love for old things.

This new job, however, was far out of Emma's range of normalcy. For one thing, it was a permanent position. The other curator jobs she had in the past had all been temporary – filling in for other curators while they were on leave, or finishing their dissertations, or taking sabbaticals. This one, at the Cheekwood Botanical Garden and Museum of Art in Nashville, was a full-time position. That's what led Emma to buy a house, rather than rent an apartment.

The idea of settling down and putting down roots, so to speak, left Emma with a familiar sense of panic and restlessness, but she was determined to stick this one out. Her life had gone through some drastic changes in the last year, and she had vowed to start over with a clean slate, a slate that could actually make her happy.

In the span of twelve months, Emma had her heart broken more times than she could count. After Neal, after she had turned eighteen, she had vowed not to let a man close enough to injure her heart in such a way again, but it had happened. Walsh had been a mistake, she realized that now. He had only been after her position as curator in one of New York City's more prestigious art galleries, and the perks that it could provide. He had only been interested in meeting important people to further his career, and had basically told Emma so to her face when she declined his marriage proposal, which had apparently thrown all his plans back in his face. Served him right, she thought.

Only months after that, she had received a rather distressing call – a woman named Mary Margaret was in the hospital, claiming to be Emma's mother. This woman had been separated from her husband (not by choice) and was eight months pregnant, and the stress had caused her to go into labor early, and the only person she could think of in that moment had been Emma, the daughter she had given up.

To say Emma had conflicting feelings about the entire thing was an understatement. She had gone to hospital after prodding from her best friend Ruby, and knew straight away that Mary Margaret was in fact her mother. They had the same chin, and the same smile. Days later, a knock on the door revealed David, Emma's father, and the tears he shed upon seeing his newborn son and wife he had been without for weeks were nothing compared to how he had reacted when he had lain eyes upon Emma, knowing immediately that this was his daughter, all grown up right before his eyes.

They had some long, painful conversations about their past, and while Emma understood that she had been given up in order to have her best chance (something about Mary Margaret's family not getting along with David's to the point of them having to run away), she still couldn't shake the loneliness and abandonment issues that were plastered on her heart. She had said as much to her parents, but told them that she wanted to be in their lives. Hence, her move to Nashville.

Her parents lived in Brentwood, a suburb not far from where Emma decided to move to, in Belle Meade. Emma was adamant that she live in her own house. Besides the fact that she was twenty-eight years old, she also couldn't imagine living with her parents after so many years apart. It was going to take a long time before she could allow herself to fully accept the sudden appearance of her parents (and a baby brother), and she figured some time to herself would be just what she needed.

That brings her up to now, where she is sweating in her house, the breeze coming through the open windows providing a small relief. Wandering into the kitchen, Emma pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea (courtesy of her neighbor, who everyone affectionately called Granny) and poured herself a tall glass, leaning on the island in her kitchen. As she looked around her home, she felt a warmth bloom in her chest at the sight of a _home_ finally coming together. She could do this.

She could do this.

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Killian's eyes were closed, shutting out the audience and the rest of the world as he strummed his guitar slowly, choosing to play this particular cover in such a way as to make everyone around him feel ensnared in the moment. As he played the final notes, he heard clapping and whistles from the crowd, and a smile reluctantly bloomed on his face.

"Thank you," he said into the microphone before getting up and leaving the stage, his set done for the evening. Backstage, he set his guitar in the case before walking back out to the bar, holding his hand up to signal the bartender.

Killian Jones led a simple life. He was convinced it was the small pleasures of living in a place like Nashville that kept him from going insane most days. A struggling musician was not the life he had pictured for himself, but he did well enough to make ends meet, and he was relatively happy. That was all that mattered to him.

As he sipped his drink, he watched the performer who had gone on after him, a girl named Belle who not only could play guitar with the best of them, but who had a sultry voice to match, not to mention an accent that had most of the crowd hanging on her every word.

He met her eye and grinned, holding up his drink in salute. His brother's bar had become a refuge for him after he had moved to Nashville, and he had since made friends with most of the regulars. The nights he helped out behind the bar weren't bad either, earning him more money than he ever needed for the week. That was one advantage to being on Music Row (the main stretch for music in Nashville) – he could both perform and tend bar, and always leave richer than when he left, either with cash, or the promise of an audition in the near future.

"Drink up, little brother," Liam's Irish lilt sounded near Killian's ear, and he turned his head slightly, "You've got company," he said, sounding concerned, and Killian turned to the doorway, his smile fading instantly as he saw his ex-girlfriend and her new husband walk through the doors.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, downing the rest of his drink before escaping to the makeshift backstage area. Before he got there, however, he felt a hand on his elbow, and when he turned around, he was face to face with Milah.

"It's rude not to say hello, Killian!" She teased, her smile just as bright as he remembered, and he felt his heart clench painfully as he saw her lace her fingers with Robert Gold, her husband.

"Milah," he greeted, tilting his head in her direction. "Gold," he said coolly to her husband, who said nothing in return, but narrowed his eyes. "I have to get backstage," he lied, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Have a drink with us, will you? We haven't seen each other in so long."

_Whose fault is that? _ Killian wanted to scream, but instead he found himself ushered into a booth in the corner of the bar, Liam bringing him a refill, sending him an apologetic look. "I never got to wish the both of you congratulations," he said glumly, trying his hardest to be civil.

"We've been so busy. Things are happening so fast after the wedding!" Milah gushed, and Killian wondered (not for the first time), how she could be so accepting of everything that had happened between the two of them. Did she feel no remorse at all for leaving him in the dead of night for a man that he used to trust?

"You started drinking without me!" A voice interrupted, and Killian looked up to see a woman, possibly the most stunning woman he had ever seen, watching him with eyes that were the color of gemstones.

"Uh…" he said, brilliantly, feeling unbelievably out of the loop. The blonde woman took a seat next to him and shot a dazzling smile in Milah's direction, watching as the brunette's smile diminished significantly.

"I'm Emma. He probably didn't mention me, did he?" She said, her voice full of affection as she elbowed Killian, who still had no idea what was happening. He decided to play along, however. Anything to get him out of the most awkward interaction of his adult life.

"He didn't, actually," Milah replied, her voice flat.

"My fault," Killian interjected, "I don't know where my manners are. Emma, this is Milah, and her husband Robert."

"Oh, I've heard so much about you," the blonde next to him said sweetly, and he nearly spat out his rum at the look on Milah's face. "It's so nice of you to come and see Killian perform, I know he appreciates all the support he can get."

"We actually didn't -"

"You know what, we're going to be late for dinner if we don't leave," Emma interrupted, looking pointedly at Killian, who stumbled over his response.

"Wha- oh, right. Dinner. You're right, we should go." He stood abruptly, trying not to notice the floral scent of Emma's perfume invading his senses.

"It was so nice to meet you all. I hope we see you again soon," she said, her smile innocent but biting at the same time as she grinned at Milah, who was seemingly frozen in place. Quietly, she muttered to Killian, "Follow me outside and whatever you do, don't look to see if she's watching. She is."

Killian was dumbstruck, and followed Emma out of the bar, ignoring his brother's amused face as he stepped out onto the busy streets of Nashville with a virtual stranger.

"I… You…" he started, trailing off as he rubbed a hand over his face.

"I think 'thank you' is the phrase you're looking for," Emma said, rolling her eyes.

"You didn't have to do any of that," he said, meeting her eyes for the first time, and feeling a jolt of electricity race up his spine at the look of understanding he found in her gaze.

"No, I didn't, but I know that situation. It's not fun. Thought I'd save you some trouble."

After a moment, he held out his hand. "Killian Jones," he said, "And thank you."

"I'm Emma. Emma Swan. And you're welcome." She smiled softly as she shook his hand, and he marveled at the softness of her skin before she withdrew from him, arms going around her middle as she tried to ward off the cold. "I saw your set," she offered, "You were really good."

Killian felt his cheeks heat up at her praise, and smiled shyly at her. "Thank you kindly, ma'am." He said, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat in her direction.

She laughed, a sound he found himself wanting to hear more of, and he grinned. "Really, thank you again for rescuing me in there."

"Don't mention it," she replied, that small smile still painted on her lips, the late-night breeze causing her curly hair to dance around her face in a particularly appealing way. "I've got to go; I really just came for a drink. I'll see you around, Jones." She said, and turned to leave without waiting for his reply.

He watched her go, feeling as if something was shifting in the air around him signaling a change, and hopefully one for the better.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_First, thanks so much for all the favoriting/reviewing/following! The feedback I've gotten for this is incredible. Also, I want to address a few questions/concerns that were posted in the reviews so I'll get to that before the text. _

_This part is a bit shorter, and is a little bit of a filler chapter. More action in the next few chapters, I promise! As always, please review if you read!_

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**_Guest reviewer_**_: Hi! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. As for you being from Nashville, that certainly means I'm going to have to step up my game, haha! One of your concerns was that Emma lives in what is a very expensive neighborhood. I did some research and actually was inspired to write this by a listing that I saw in Belle Mead, for a house that was priced at $595,000. The listing said it needed quite a bit of work, so I expect that's why the price was so low. However, this neighborhood might not be exactly where the house actually is (the listing could be wrong), so I apologize for any confusion! Also, you've brought up Charming and Snow's backstory as well as their history with Emma, and I promise all of that will be dealt with in future chapters! Thanks for reading!_

**_CarolineSofie90_**_: Thank you so much! I promise to update as regularly as I can, haha._

**_Orchfan_**_: Glad you're enjoying it! X_

**_Colinodonewithyou_**_: First, I love your username. Thanks for the review! I've always thought that Emma was Killian's savior, in more ways than one, and wanted a chance to showcase that even in AU. Glad it worked!_

**_1994omi:_**_ Thanks for reading! Killian and Milah's backstory is different than on the show, and it will be revealed in future chapters. Also MM and David's baby's name will be revealed as well, but I can tell you right now that it's not Neal, because I hated that narrative on the show._

**_Hosters_**_: More coming up right now! Glad you love it!_

**_AdrinaStark_**_: I'm so glad you like it. Thanks for reading!_

**_BabyBones:_**_ Thanks for your review! I hope you like the next chapter just as much as the first!_

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Killian went about a week without seeing Emma Swan again, and thought about the blonde an embarrassing amount of times. He could count on one hand the number of people who had bested him, and Emma certainly had, even if she saved him from an awkward situation in the process.

His history with Milah was short, but dramatic, and he wished that she didn't get under his skin as much as she did. He wanted to stop wasting time thinking about all the regrets he had surrounding their relationship, and move on.

Maybe meeting Emma Swan was the nudge in the right direction that he had been looking for.

After Milah, he didn't think he'd be cut out for another long-term dating situation for a long, long time. He and Milah had been together for four years before he found out that she had been cheating on him for six months, if not longer. He had never particularly cared to find out exactly how long he had been blind to her indiscretions. One of things that had initially drawn him to her had been how free-spirited she was, but he never imagined that she would have gotten so restless when it came to their life together. He had pictured them together for the duration - planning a life together after he finally had some success in the music scene. He supposed that was his own fault, however. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and had always been a bit of a hopeless romantic.

In the end, Milah had chosen the other man over Killian, and that had nearly broken him. He had never wanted to give his heart to another person after that, and besides a few dates that his brother had practically demanded that he go on, he had been alone for the two years that he and Milah had been broken up. It didn't help that Milah and her new husband still lived in Nashville, so he was forced to see them all the time, despite how big the city was.

While he was determined to be the bigger man and be civil with Milah, he couldn't help but notice that Robert Gold never was, and Killian could only take so many insults to his face. That being said, thankful didn't begin to describe how Killian felt when Emma had quite literally swooped in and saved him from having to make small talk with his ex-girlfriend.

Since then, Killian had played one more set at Liam's bar, and had spent a few nights bartending, but he still hadn't seen any sign of the intriguing blonde. He shook his head, hoping to rid his brain of thoughts of Emma Swan. She was still a stranger, after all.

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Emma stretched her sore muscles, tired from overuse and from spending so long bent over the worktable in the back room of the museum. The art gallery at Cheekwood was having an Andy Warhol exhibit coming up soon, and she had been hired just in time to be thrust into examining all the paintings. She didn't mind, really, and was even more relieved to discover that she would essentially be designing the layout for the entire show, with some help from the other staff at the gallery.

Emma had always preferred to work alone, and now that the cards were all in her hands, so to speak, she felt confident that she would put on a great exhibit for her first major project at her new job. Her boss, Regina Mills, was a bit of a hard-ass, but it was nothing that Emma couldn't handle, and she was sure that after time, she wouldn't feel like she had to walk on eggshells around her boss. For the most part, Regina left Emma alone – preferring to stay in her office taking calls. Emma was grateful. She had a small transistor radio that she could listen to at a quiet volume and while she worked, and her work environment was much less stressful than it had been in New York and Boston.

Nashville was proving to be every bit the big city with small town charm that she had heard so much about, and she knew that this was exactly what she needed to give her a boost and make her life more positive. She knew that she was going to be spending time with her parents, and while that thought caused a lot of anxiety, not having much else to deal with made it a lot less stressful.

While she thought about a new, stress-free life, she remembered the bar she had visited the week before, and how she had been thoroughly enjoying herself, even drinking enough to summon the confidence to rescue poor Killian. She felt a smile bloom on her face at the memory of his ex's face when she had swooped into the conversation. She hadn't been back to that bar since, but she thought that it might be a good hangout.

It had good music, and the drinks were cheap, cheap enough that she wouldn't feel guilty about having one and leaving before the night was half over. Emma had become a bit of a homebody these days, but with all the work she was doing when it came to unpacking and restoring her house, she felt like she owed herself at least a drink once in a while.

A voice in the back of her head reminded her that Killian had been attractive (exceptionally attractive, really), but she tried to shake off the thought as soon as it formed. She didn't move to Nashville to start dating again. It was too soon. For a long time, she was convinced that she would just be single forever. After Neal, she hadn't wanted to be in the same room as another man, let alone date one. Her trust issues were many, but that didn't mean that her eyes didn't work. Killian Jones was definitely someone that, ordinarily, she would have considered taking home for the night, after they'd both had too much to drink and as long as she was sure he would be gone in the morning, no questions asked. Somehow, she didn't see herself doing that much anymore. She had other priorities now.

Her mother had called around lunch time, and wanted to have dinner with Emma sometime during the week, and had just sounded so _hopeful_ during the whole conversation that Emma had caved, and scheduled dinner for the next night. As uncomfortable as she felt with the whole thing, a bigger part of her had a lot of questions, questions that needed to be answered before Emma could stop feeling like she had been abandoned.

Her parents seemed so in love, so happy, and now they had a new baby. The little orphan girl inside of Emma kept insisting that they didn't need her, not anymore, certainly not after this long. There was still the issue of why Mary Margaret had been about to give birth alone, however, and Emma wanted to get to the bottom of that, as well as figure out how Mary Margaret had even gotten her contact information in the first place.

Sighing, Emma saved her progress on the designs for the exhibition and closed the program on her computer, relieved to discover that her worrying had at least made the day go by faster. She cleaned up her desk, grabbed her jacket, and headed out the door to finally go home for the day.

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Killian stopped by the grocery store on the way home, deciding that the bachelor life did not need to mean that he had to starve. He fancied himself a bit of a chef, and wanted to at least have a good meal before he had a full night of bartending. Turning a corner, he felt himself slam into someone, an apology on his lips, until he caught sight of the person he had run into – Emma.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, her eyes widening as she saw him, "Killian."

"Emma," he said, tilting his head lower so he could meet her eyes, "Fancy meeting you here."

"Do you always barrel around corners like that?" She asked, but there was no malice in her voice, only a teasing tone that had him smirking.

"Well, what can I say?" He shrugged, "They don't call me a bull in a china shop for no reason, Swan."

They grinned at each other for a moment before Emma broke the gaze. "Any word from your ex since the other night?"

"Not a peep. Thanks for that, by the way." Killian smiled at her, trying and failing not to notice the shine of her hair in the afternoon sun.

"It was no trouble. Like I said, I've been in that situation before." She scratched her arm and glanced away, and Killian could take a hint when it was presented to him.

"I should go, and let you get back to shopping."

"Are you going to be at the bar tonight?" She blurted, and her eyes widened like she hadn't even meant to say that aloud in the first place. He couldn't help it, a grin stretched across his lips to rival any that he'd done all day.

"I might be. Why do you ask? Can't stand to have me out of your sight?" He teased, chuckling when Emma rolled her eyes in response.

"Forget I asked. Have a good night, Jones."

"You too, Swan, you too," he grinned, watching her go. Having her around would be very interesting indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_It's been pointed out to me that some of the more real elements of my story (i.e., places in Nashville) are not really that plausible for the types of characters I've got laid out, but in the interest of saving time and confusion, I'm going to leave everything as it is. I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much who is from the area – I try to do as much research as I can before I write, but some things slip through the cracks since I don't have a beta. Also it was pointed out to me that in the first chapter, I have Emma as a twenty-five year old, when she is meant to be twenty-eight, so please note that has been changed. _

_ Another thing that's been bothering me is that I'm pretty sure there's a tense change in this chapter but I couldn't quite work out which way I wanted it to go, so I'm sorry if it confuses anyone! I'll be trying to fix it for future chapters. Anyway, here is the next chapter! Please review if you read!_

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Killian watched out of the corner of his eye as Emma walked in to the bar, true to her word. He bit back a grin as she tried and failed not to meet his eyes, and watched as a pretty blush spread over her cheeks. She chose a seat at the bar, farthest away from where the majority of the patrons were, and he found himself sauntering over to Liam's side of the bar, ignoring the look he received from another woman who had just taken a seat as well.

"Swan," he greeted, smirking at her. He didn't know where the urge to talk to her (and to banter with her) came from, but this rapport they had developed came easily, and he wasn't one to argue with whatever god had given him an opportunity to flirt with a beautiful woman.

"Jones," she said, tilting her head in his direction so he could hear her better. "Busy night?"

He shrugged, "It'll do. What can I get for you?" He asked her, glancing behind him to see if his brother had returned from the office in the back, where he had been on the phone.

"Whiskey, neat, please." Emma drummed her fingertips on the bar, looking distracted. Killian wanted to ask, wanted to know what's going on in that mind of hers, but he sensed that she wouldn't tell him even if he asked, so he doesn't push.

He makes her drink, and brings it back to her, watching as she almost downs the entire thing in one gulp. "Something on your mind, Swan?"

Her eyes meet his and he's surprised to recognize the look in her eyes – the look of someone who is feeling lost, and who has felt lost for a long time. He feels a swooping sensation in his gut as their eyes lock, because in that moment, he _knows_ Emma Swan like he has never known anyone else. Call him a hopeless romantic, but the connection he feels with her is not something he's dreaming up.

"You don't have to tell me," he deflects quickly, seeing the shutters go up in her eyes.

She waves a hand at him, "It's… it's not… I'm sorry. I'm not good at this."

"Talking about your problems?" He smiles softly and shrugs, "Join the club."

"Not just that. I'm not good at… at opening up to people. That's how people get hurt," she adds quietly, and he wants to comfort her somehow, but it hits him that they're still virtual strangers, and he doesn't want to overstep his bounds, not with her.

Trying to lighten the mood, he pours her another drink. "Everyone's entitled to his or her off days, Swan. Even you."

He's interrupted by the other end of the bar getting rowdy after being denied their drinks for too long, and he shoots Emma an apologetic look before heading to the other end of the bar. After Liam finally comes out of the back and helps Killian deal with the crowd, he turns back to wear Emma had been sitting, and is only a little bit surprised to find the seat empty, money on the bar.

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Emma felt unsettled. After she left the bar, she went home and channeled her frustration at almost opening up to _a complete stranger_ into working on her house - getting half of the kitchen and all of the first floor powder room painted. She was glad for the distraction; the blinking of her answering machine leaving her feeling guilty. Her mother had called and Emma had screened the call, knowing that Mary Margaret had wanted to "have a talk" for days, and Emma just wasn't ready for it.

She had a lot of questions, but part of her was afraid of the answers she was going to get. She wanted to figure out why David hadn't been there at the hospital when her little brother was born, however, so she decided to bite the bullet and listen to the message.

As predicted, it was her mother, requesting that Emma come over for dinner. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was eight in the evening, and hoped that it wouldn't be too late to swing over to her parent's house. A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her that this was something she had always dreamed about – being out on her own and having excuses to just go over to her parent's house for dinner, or coffee, or just because. As a teenager, Emma had dreamed of being able to say she was "going to her parent's house" like all of the other girls at the boarding school she had attended while still living at the orphanage, before she ran away and met Neal.

After grabbing her purse and her keys, Emma locked the house carefully before getting in her car and starting the drive to Brentwood. About twenty minutes later, before Emma could convince herself to turn around, Emma was pulling up the gravel driveway of her parents' two-story ranch.

On cue, the porch light came on, and Mary Margaret appeared in the doorway, waving enthusiastically. "Emma! I'm glad you could make it," she said, hugging her daughter, who tensed.

"I'm sorry it's so late, I was busy today and didn't get your message until I got home." Emma said, following Mary Margaret inside the house.

"Don't be silly, you know you're welcome here anytime."

"Where's David?" Emma asked, sitting at the breakfast bar while her mother bustled around the kitchen, fixing Emma a plate.

"He had to run to the store. He'll be back soon."

"Everything okay with you two?" Emma asked, her words slow coming out of her mouth. She hoped it wasn't too obvious that she was still not comfortable with interacting with her mother.

Mary Margaret put the plate in the microwave and turned to face Emma, a sheepish smile on her face. "About all that… Emma, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have called you when I was in the hospital."

Emma felt as though all the breath was being sucked out of her lungs, and the look on her face must have showed it, because Mary Margaret paled, and instantly was standing in front of Emma, taking one of her hands in her own. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"It's okay…"

"No, no it's not. Emma, honey, there are so many things you need to know. The first of them is that your father and I… we are so in love." Mary Margaret smiled, "He wasn't at the hospital the night Leo was born because his father had threatened me. Your grandfather had never been supportive of our relationship, that's why we moved to Tennessee from Maine."

"He threatened you? When you were pregnant?" Emma asked incredulously, feeling a surge of protectiveness well up inside of her at the thought of her mother, pregnant and alone, feeling terrified in the hospital.

"David never told me exactly what George – that's your grandfather – said, but that he needed to go back to Maine and deal with it. I… I told him I would be fine, but when it came time to have the baby, I felt so helpless and I needed someone… I needed my _family_," she said, the last word coming out broken.

"I couldn't call David. I didn't want your grandfather to know where I was, and I knew he would try to find me, so I… I tried to find you."

"How did you do all that when you were going into labor?!" Emma was reeling, all the information coming at her at once making her feel as though she had stepped onto a movie set. This was not how she expected her life to be.

"When I found out I was pregnant, I started trying to find you, Emma." Her mother said slowly, "I started to look at adoption agencies and hospitals, and orphanages in the area where I had given birth to you."

Emma shut her eyes tightly, unwilling to believe what she was hearing. The idea that they could have found her, all of these years… it was like someone was taking a knife and twisting it, right into her heart. "Why…" she croaked, "Why didn't you do all of this earlier?"

"Emma, please. There's still so much that you need to know, so much that we didn't talk about after you came to find me at the hospital."

"All I know is that I was left alone. For my entire life, I've been alone." Tears started to well in Emma's eyes, and she knew she made a mistake by coming here tonight. She wasn't ready for this, she didn't know if she'd _ever_ be ready for this, and knowing that her parents could have found her at any point while she was growing up was the worst thing she could have imagined.

"We had no choice, Emma," her mother said, tears on her cheeks, "We had to send you away to have your best chance. I promise you, it was the last thing we wanted to do!"

"This was a mistake… I have to… I have to go." Emma clamored off of her chair, blindly grabbing for her purse and keys. "Tell David… tell him… I don't know." Emma said, the tears she was trying so hard to keep in falling down on her cheeks as she rushed out the door, leaving her mother frozen in place behind her.

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Killian walked out the door of the bar, ushering the last of the patrons out before him, making sure they all got into a cab, before he turned to lock the door of the bar. Liam had gone home early, claiming exhaustion, but Killian knew he really had a date, so it had been up to him to clean up and lock up at closing time.

He slid the key into the lock and turned it to the left, hearing the click before turning to put his keys in his pockets and heading to his car. As he turned around, he saw a familiar figure walking quickly down the street in his direction. Brow furrowing, he walked towards her.

"Emma?"

She looked up, her eyes red and watery, and his stomach tightened. "Shit, sorry. You're closed, aren't you?"

"Swan-"

"It's fine, I just wanted a drink. I'll go somewhere else." She said quickly, turning to leave. Killian reached out, catching her elbow, gently turning her back to face him.

"_Emma._ What's happened?" He doesn't know her well, but knows her well enough to know that she wouldn't want him to see her so vulnerable, but he can't just _leave_, not when she's upset like this.

She doesn't say anything, not for a few minutes, but seems to come to a decision eventually because the next thing he knows, she's practically telling him her life story. She tells him about her parents, her abandonment, the orphanage where she grew up, and being reunited with her family. It's a lot to take in, but he gets the Reader's Digest version and his heart goes out to her.

"I don't understand why they never looked for me. All those years…" She trailed off, wiping at her eyes.

Killian is struck at how similar their childhoods were, and he knows he has to do something to make her feel better. Leaving her to deal with this alone isn't even an option. "Come on, Swan," he says, draping an arm around her shoulders to steer her in the other direction, "I know a place to get a drink."

They walk for a few minutes before they end up outside a tavern that's still open, although there's really no one left inside. They both take a seat at the bar, and Emma is surprised when Killian goes behind the bar and begins to pour them both a drink.

"What, are bartenders just interchangeable these days?"

He grins, concentrating on putting the bottles back exactly where they came from. "This is my Granny's bar. Well, she's not really my Gran, but she might as well be. She sort of took Liam and I in when we came to Nashville. We were young, and needed a place to stay, so she took pity on us and let us stay in the apartment upstairs until we both found jobs and were able to move out. I think that's what inspired Liam to open his own bar."

"And where is this Granny, then?"

Killian walks back around the front of the bar and sits next to Emma, their shoulders brushing lightly, "She doesn't bartend much anymore. She's probably in the back. They have a small menu here, but the lasagna is perfect." He winks at her.

"Lasagna at a bar?" Emma chuckles.

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, Swan."

They're both quiet for a while, savoring their drinks. Killian wants to say more, or ask her more questions about what happened tonight at her parents' house, but he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, not when they're finally having a drink together. (Because he's been meaning to ask her out since the day he met her, he realizes, but he just never had the guts to do it)

"Thanks for this," she says, "I'm sorry for dumping all of that on you. Now you know how dysfunctional I really am."

Killian laughs, "Don't be absurd, Swan."

"I should go," she says as she stands, and he wants to protest, wants to draw out their time together, but he doesn't. "I'll see you around, Jones."

"You know where to find me if you need anything, Swan."

She stops halfway to the door, and the smile on her face at his words is at once both shy and so, so alluring that Killian grips the glass in his hand extra tight.

He is in way over his head with Emma Swan.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for such the long wait in between chapters! Life has been busy, as per usual, but I finally finished up this chapter. This chapter sees emotions between Emma and Killian starting to pick up steam. Also: little Roland makes an appearance! Enjoy and please review if you read! I appreciate it! **

* * *

Emma sees Killian in and outside of the bar pretty regularly for the next two weeks. She bites back her pride one day and asks him if he could show her around and give her some advice as a new resident of Nashville, and he takes to it like it's his job.

He shows her his favorite haunts, including a particularly charming bookstore/café that she already knows she's going to be frequenting. It should surprise her how easily a friendship with Killian has formed, but the usual feelings of panic haven't set in, and she feels herself beginning to trust him, despite her better judgment. (If she didn't know any better, she'd say that she's actually learning to enjoy his company, and normally that would scare her and set her off running, but for now, she is content.)

After Emma sees Killian perform a few times, she is even more convinced that he should certainly be seeing more success than what he is getting. She starts trying to investigate how to get talent scouts to the bar, and even asks for Liam's help, but he just shakes his head and tells her, "this one is all on you, Blondie", a phrase that makes her question whether or not Killian even _wants_ to leave the comforts of his brother's bar for a bigger spotlight.

She thinks that, however, until she sees the reaction he gets when there's a large crowd in the bar for one of his sets, and when people are asking for his CDs (which he doesn't have, typical) and for pictures with him afterwards. She imagines the feeling is much like the one she gets when an exhibit that she puts together does well and draws large crowds, and she wants that for him; wants him to be able to experience that all the time, because if anyone deserves it, it's him.

She doesn't breathe a word of what she's observed. He's already far too good at reading her expressions and seemingly her inner thoughts, and she wants this to be a secret. She's brought out of her thoughts as the man in question saunters up to her where she's waiting for him in Granny's.

"Swan," he greets, leaning over to squeeze her shoulder lightly as he slides onto the bar stool next to her. "Long day?"

"Always. You?"

"I'm off today and tonight. Feeling like Chinese food and movies." He grins, winking at her, knowing her weakness for Chinese food.

She makes a face unconsciously, "I have to do some more work tonight. I just wanted to get some food before I go back to Cheekwood." As if on cue, Granny appears with Emma's burger and fries, and a beer for Killian.

After a murmured thanks, Emma digs in, her stomach growling loudly, much to Emma's embarrassment. Killian, however, has a frown on his face. "What?" Emma asks around a mouthful of food, and Killian blushes at being caught looking at her with concern in his eyes.

"Nothing, Swan. I just… are you sleeping alright?"

Emma nearly chokes, "Excuse me?"

His blush intensifies, "I just meant… how are things? You seem like you're tired and I just… I wanted to make sure things were going a little better with… everything." They've never really talked again about what had happened with Emma and her parents, or the breakdown she nearly had after the disastrous conversation with her mother. She is immensely thankful for that, for Killian not pushing her, because she already feels like she might be ready to finally, _finally_ have an adult conversation with her parents, and she really doesn't need any more anxiety to go along with it.

"I'm okay," she says quietly, tilting her head in his direction, "Thank you for asking." This is all new for Emma – having a friend that she trusts, a friend that cares about her and asks how she's doing. She knows that she's treading into dangerous territory with Killian, however. She's attracted to him, that much is certain, and he seems like he's exactly her type, which scares Emma more than she's willing to admit.

"I'm glad," he says to her, breaking her out of her reverie. "Listen, do you mind if I drop by the gallery sometime this week?"

It's Emma's turn to furrow her brow, "What on earth would you want to come there for?"

Killian chuckles, "My mate Robin has a young boy – Roland. I think he'd like it there. Probably the gardens more, but I could swing by while we're about. He'd like you, too." He grins at her, the smile that she's beginning to learn is just for her.

"I'll text you my work schedule for this week so you know when the events are." She's biting her lip, trying not to smile, and when she finally leaves Granny's for Cheekwood, she lets the smile bloom across her face, embracing the feeling of finally being happy.

.

.

.

Killian walks back to his apartment on a cloud, humming a tune under his breath. Liam has been teasing him all week, telling him that he's never been this happy before, and it's terrifying to think that he might be right. Ever since Emma came to him after her confrontation with her mother, a wall had fallen between them, and they had reached a new understanding. Killian knew all too well what it was like to be left behind, and left wondering why you weren't wanted.

The intensity with which he never wanted Emma to feel like that again scared him, and he knew the road he was going down was a dangerous one. Emma had the potential to make him the happiest man alive, or break his heart into a hundred pieces, and he wasn't sure he could take that again. However, his heart seemed to be ignoring his head, and he knew he was well on his way to falling for her. She was lovely in every way, and he knew that spending less time with her was simply not an option. Aside from his growing attraction to the blonde, she was genuinely his only friend aside from his brother and Robin, a mate of his from college.

As he unlocks the door and steps inside his flat, he is reminded of his conversation with Emma about bringing Robin's boy, Roland, to Cheekwood sometime during the week. He was guilted in to babysitting duty weeks ago, and Robin was finally cashing in, although Killian didn't mind in the slightest. Roland was a lovely little boy, and Killian always enjoyed any time he got to spend with the boy. Roland especially loved it when "Uncle Killian" got out his guitar, so Killian was never bored when the little boy was around.

Robin's wife passed away a few years prior, about the time that Killian was going through things with Milah, and the two drowned their sorrows together more often than not. The bond between the two friends was thick, and Killian knew there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Robin or Roland. Killian was loyal to a fault, a fact that he prided himself on, and he suddenly felt an urge to see how Emma would be with Roland. He pictures her laughing with the little boy, showing him all the paintings that she helped put on display, and the image is nearly overwhelming for Killian, who quickly shakes his head to clear his thoughts, lest the thoughts of Emma begin to overtake his thoughts completely.

Walking into his bedroom, Killian tugs his shirt over his head, and begins to get ready for an evening of doing nothing. Earlier, he had been disappointed at the prospect of an event-less night, but now he was looking forward to it, wholeheartedly. After absentmindedly cleaning his apartment for a few minutes, he decides to get out his guitar, and starts humming a melody that's been stuck in his head for the majority of the day.

He feels a calmness wash over him instantly as he strums the chords and hums quietly, the stress of worrying about Emma and what was happening with Emma washing away effortlessly. Suddenly, an idea springs into his head, and it's either genius, or completely mad, but either way it has his eyes twinkling as he grabs a pen and writes a reminder for himself for when he takes Roland to visit Emma.

He's going to bring the guitar.

.

.

.

Emma stares at the memo she's just been given by her manager at Cheekwood and feels her insides start to twist in anxiety. There's just a few days before the opening of their latest exhibit, and she's just been given a photocopy of the invitation for the formal gallery opening. She hates this part of the job – as the curator and designer of the entire exhibit, she's obligated to attend, but it's always the same: an endless string of questions about her personal life (if she's married, mostly) from the more well-to-do patrons of the art scene.

She hopes that the people of Nashville won't be as nosy as they were in New York (or at least try to be more subtle about it) and hopes even more that an Andy Warhol exhibit will perhaps attract a younger, more alternative crowd. Those types of people are always the easiest to deal with. She inwardly scolds herself for stereotyping, but knows she has the experience to back up her point of view, and the little guilt she feels is squashed by the returning anxiety at the thought of the opening.

Emma is brought out of her thoughts when she hears loud voices coming from the corridor that leads from the staff offices to the main foyer of the art gallery, and feels a small smile begin to form against her will when she identifies one of the loud voices as none other than Killian Jones. When she makes her way out into the main area of the gallery, she sees Killian and a boy who can't be older than four years old perched on his shoulders, talking in more hushed voices. It does not escape her that Killian has flowers in the hand currently not occupied by keeping a small child from tumbling off his shoulders, but she chooses to ignore it for the time being.

"I thought I heard trouble," she says once she approaches them, and Killian whirls around, a smile gracing his lips when he sees her.

He actually looks sheepish when he replies, "Sorry, love. We were being a bit loud, weren't we?"

"It's fine. There's really no one here," Emma says, smiling at the little boy who is waving at her from his view on Killian's back. "And who have you brought with you?"

"Ah," Killian grins, "This young man would be Roland. Robin's boy."

"I'm four!" The little boy cries, and Emma laughs.

"No way, I would have pegged you for at least six!" She says, stepping closer to him. "You're way too big to be four."

"Uncle Killy says I'm going to be the strongest kid in kindergarten next year!" He tells her excitedly, and Emma glances at Killian, who is blushing endearingly. _Get a grip, Emma_.

"These are for you," The man in question interjects, handing her the bouquet of daisies, "the little lad insisted."

"You should always get a pretty lady flowers," Roland says with all the sureness of someone much, much older.

"They're beautiful. I'll put them in my office and then I can show you around if you want?" She says, speaking to Killian.

"Sounds good, Swan. We'll be out here, staying very far out of trouble." He winks, and before she can retort, he turns on his heels and stoops to let Roland off of his shoulders. He grips the child's arm before Roland can take off, and starts to tell him all about the paintings, and Emma suppresses a snort at the lies he's making up about what they're about.

Heading towards her office, Emma listens to the muted sounds of Killian's voice and wonders (not for the first time) how he became such a fixture in her life. She's grateful, she really is, because she's never had many friends. On the other hand, however, it scares her how easily she's learned to trust him. Sometime over the course of their friendship, she's accepted his place in her life as seamlessly as if he had been there the entire time. The thought jars her so much that she nearly drops the flowers he's given her on the floor, but regains her senses when she hears his voice coming closer, as well as little Roland's, who sounds like he's crying.

Furrowing her brow, she peeks her head around the corner of her office and sees Killian holding the little boy's hand, walking slowly as he looks for her office.

"Everything okay?" She asks, and he meets her eyes, looking relieved.

"There you are. You wouldn't happen to have band aids somewhere, would you? Roland is feeling adventurous today, apparently." He points at the boy's knee, which is starting to bleed, and Emma puts the pieces together. "We went outside for a second and he got too excited. Tripped over his own feet." Killian chuckles, but Emma can still hear the undercurrent of concern in his voice.

Emma walks over to her desk and begins rifling through the large bottom drawer, looking for a first aid kit. When she finds it, she turns back to the boys. "Hey Roland, do you want to sit in my chair for a minute?"

"I'm too little," he whimpers, and Emma's heart clenches.

"I think you're just the right size," she says, and holds her hand out for the boy to take. He looks at her for a minute before a determined glint enters his eyes and he walks over to the chair and without Emma's help, begins to hoist himself up. "See? Next thing you know, you'll have my job!" Emma teases, and is pleased when Roland giggles.

"I can't have a job, I'm only four!"

Emma laughs, and looks up from her bandage work for a minute to glance at Killian, who is watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Their eyes lock for a second, and she sees his ice blue eyes soften as he looks at her, and the familiar stirrings of panic begin to creep in, but she pushes them away. _Not now, not him_, she insists, telling herself that she's being silly.

"You're all set, buddy," she tells Roland after she cleans his scrape and puts the band aid in place, ruffling his hair gently. He hops down from the chair and walks over to Killian, talking a mile a minute about the paintings in the main part of the gallery.

"I can give you guys that tour now, if you want." She says, meeting Killian's eyes, and the look she saw there before is gone now, replaced by the easy familiarity she's used to.

"After you, Swan." He says, and the three of them leave the office, Emma shutting the door behind them.

.

.

.

The tour goes on for more than an hour, mostly because Emma has to figure out how to describe artwork to a four year old, but Killian thinks she's practically an angel for all the extra time she's taking to explain things to Roland. He watches her kneel down so she's face-to-face with the little boy, and asks him questions about what kind of painting he would make if he could, and Killian swears he's never heard Roland talk so much.

Killian knows he let too much of his emotions show on his face in Emma's office earlier. He had seen it written all over her face – that she had noticed, and that she had panicked. He never intended to get caught looking at her like that, but seeing her taking care of Roland and making him laugh… it was like something had settled into place for Killian, and he found himself wanting Emma in that moment more than he had at any point since he met her. It was terrifying, but also something Killian felt was inevitable.

"How about some lunch, yeah?" He asks when they make their way back to Emma's office, and she nods and smiles at him.

Emma suggests the botanical garden to have lunch in, and Killian agrees, making a pit stop at the car for the cooler he packed and for his guitar. As he makes his way to the area Emma pointed out, he can see her and Roland walking up ahead, hand in hand. Something inside his chest squeezes at the sight and he has to force himself to get a grip, to think about _anything_ other than what a fantastic mother she would make. The idea is too much; too soon… he doesn't even know if she feels an iota of what he feels for her… it's all too much. He swallows hard and composes himself before he catches up to them.

"Here we are, sandwiches for everyone. The one without the crusts is yours, lad." He says to Roland, handing him a PB&J. "Turkey and cheese okay for you, Swan?" He asks her, and she nods.

While they eat, Killian gets his guitar out of the case, chuckling softly when he sees Roland's eyes light up. He begins to strum something idly while the other two finish eating, and closes his eyes as a breeze kicks up around them, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face.

"Play that song you were singing earlier, Uncle Killy!" Roland exclaims, and Killian cracks open an eye to look at him.

"What, the ABC's?" He teases, laughing when Roland glares at him in a way that only a four year old can.

"No! That song!"

"Oh, _that_ song," He says, winking at Emma, who is stifling a laugh. "Let's see if I can remember it…" he trails off, plucking a few strings, as he gets ready to play a song that he learned recently. He had planned on "debuting" it during his next set at Liam's bar, and supposes now is as good of a time as any to see if he remembers all the words.

As he begins to sing, he tries to ignore the feeling of Emma's eyes on him, and is pleasantly surprised when he hears her start to hum along. The song he is singing isn't well known, but he supposes it would fit that Emma would share his taste in music. Just another thing to add to the list of how she's single handedly ruining him for anyone else. He shakes the slightly bitter thought out of his head and concentrates on the song, strumming along as he sees Roland start to sway where he's sitting, clapping his hands to the beat of the song. Killian grins, encouraging him, the way he's seen Robin do. Robin plays the guitar as well, but has played mostly kids songs ever since Roland was born.

As the song comes to an end, Killian strums the last chord dramatically, winking at Roland, who claps enthusiastically. Through his clapping, however, he yawns so large that Killian swears he can hear his jaw crack, and Killian laughs. "Time for a nap, hey?"

"Naps are for babies," Roland tells him primly, crossing his arms.

"I'd kill for a nap right now," Emma mutters, and Killian snorts.

"Well, lad, I hate to disappoint, but I think it's time we let Miss Swan get back to work." He begins to put his guitar away and pack up the picnic lunch, with Emma's help, despite Roland's protests about wanting to stay.

"I'll make sure you can come back soon, okay?" Emma reassures the boy, and Roland smiles at her, dimples showing.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," Emma repeats, holding out her finger for him to wrap his around. Killian watches the scene with a soft smile on his face, cursing whatever deity thought it would be nice for him to be suddenly bombarded with images of Emma and a dark-haired boy with her green eyes… _no_. Killian forces the thought from his head and hoists Roland up on his shoulders, smiling when Emma offers to carry the cooler and his guitar.

"Thanks," he says, letting out a quiet laugh when he feels Roland start to slump against him, falling asleep already. He shifts the boy into his arms and carries him back to the car, Roland's head resting against his shoulder, and Emma hums softly next to him as they walk.

"You knew that song?" He asks when they get to the car and he maneuvers Roland into his car seat in the back.

"Yeah, I like a bit of folk music every now and then," she says, smiling at him. "That was nice today, thanks for stopping by. I needed the distraction."

"Is that all I am to you, Swan?" He pouts, feigning hurt, and grins when she smacks him in the chest.

"Stop. Listen, I have a favor to ask you. You can say no," she adds immediately, a nervous quality creeping into her voice.

"What do you need?"

"The gala for the opening of the gallery… it's in a couple days. Regina insists that I go, even though none of the donors or special guests know me yet…"

"Emma, spit it out," Killian chuckles.

"Will you come? With me, I mean? I just… it's going to be probably filled with snobby, boring people, but there will be good food and music, and I just thought that it would be less awful if -"

"Relax, Swan," he teases, "I'll go with you." He's pleased that she thought to ask him, when she just as easily could have asked her parents, or just gone alone, for that matter, and the thought of spending a fancy evening with Emma Swan is too much for even him to pass up.

"It's black tie," she warns, and he grins.

"Good thing all the ties I own are black."

"I'll make it up to you," She promises, but he shakes his head.

"It's not a big deal, Swan. That's what friends are for, after all."

They say their goodbyes and she tells him that she'll text him the information when she gets back to her apartment. He slides into the driver's seat of the car and watches as she makes her way back to the art gallery, and once she's out of sight he lets out a breath and lowers his forehead to the steering wheel, banging it lightly. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, wondering how on earth he had managed to fall for Emma Swan this fast.

* * *

**A/N: The song I had in mind for Killian singing was "Nothing To Do Today" by The Well Pennies. Their EP is what originally inspired me to write this AU, so I highly recommend it! Also: if you're not already, stop by my Tumblr and say hi! I love to meet new people! :)**


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